The Write City Magazine – Archives

One Down, Two Across Escaping into my crossword limping from the fray; I’d rather look at boxes than deal with you today. In what way could I change you by whisper or by shout? I’d rather figure phrases than know what you’re about. So call me weak or lazy, or call me thick of head, Continue Reading »

So, I’ll run I’ll be well on my way, walking home the long city streets seven miles from downtown in a white anger when the short, wide, thick, lumpish, oddly handsome weight-lifter of a man will be standing there, as I round the building corner, a long knife in his left hand and, on his Continue Reading »

A Man Scratching Lottery Tickets on the Street Corner A man stands in front of the corner liquor store, holds tickets in his hands, scratching away, scratching, as pedestrians walk by, pay him no mind. He takes off the silvery coating, reveals the numbers underneath, shuts his eyes for a moment, and breathes. Nothing. He Continue Reading »

What light What calm Leaked throughout the city Them at night their bodies Peaks and valleys of shadows Caressed by the orange glow of city lights Parents driving their daughters home Medical students trying their hand at a sly Smile Hitting on slim, flat-chested blondes Tasteless Bland Like their textbooks’ Narrative voice That they are Continue Reading »

MURAL, CHICAGO Like sloppy graffiti, The ugliness of violence Keeps “defacing” The walls of our town– The scarlet red Of bloodshed Too often being found, Splattered, Scattered, “Tagging” A once beautiful Mighty image– Inscribing it with An indelible ink permanence, History won’t soon forget FOR A FRIEND WITH ALZHEIMER’S Continue Reading »

I thought I saw you today, underground in Union Station On the train – but really on the train on the next track. You were looking down – maybe at your ticket, maybe wondering why you were there, maybe wondering where you were going. Suddenly with a lurch your train moved. I tried to Continue Reading »

Sand Castle. Today I built a sand castle. My brother Danny said, “It will fall!” He was right. The waves did sweep it up. It had been low tide after all. I built a second sand castle. Danny said, “It has no chance!” The tide crept up and took it again. Danny did a victory Continue Reading »

2 TEACH (Dedicated to Room 406) On a good day It’s not a bad way To toil away The hours, Creating avenues to empower, Molding minds Deconstructing myths, Attempting to “school” Exploring old rules, And new possibilities, Instructing, Informing, Drilling, Instilling, Shedding light, Lighting paths To combat Poverty’s darkness HANDS (Dedicated to L.F.) TO THE Continue Reading »

1 The tender dampness Of the aging bougainvillea, My tireless hands, Lightly tread, Along your surrendering body. My lips have already unraveled The secrets Of your cracked lips. And we begin To regain time. 2 Your body has been the world In the palms of other men. They have ingrained themselves Deep into your hallowed Continue Reading »

"CWA connected me immediately with like minds, the brethren of writers I was looking for. It's an incredibly welcoming group that made a huge difference in my getting continually published. I would recommend the association to any level of writer, poet, journalist, or memoirist."
- David W. Berner, author and journalist